Hawkeye: Caught in the Crossfire
by silkyterrier34
Summary: The Avengers have split. Half are fugitives. Clint Barton believes that this is his biggest problem. What he doesn't know is that he is a target for former CIA agent William Cross. Unfortunately, Clint is too focused on his family problems and nursing a stray dog back to health to notice the danger. Clint/Laura, but can be seen with Clintasha if you want.
1. Safe House

**I've been unable to publish stories for the past few months, but now I'm back!**

 **This story idea has been in my head for a long time. Hawkeye is one of my favorite Avengers and I wanted to write a story focused on his character. This takes place after Captain America: Civil War and is going to feature some elements from Hawkeye's comics. It will feature the characters Crossfire and Lucky.**

 **So far, I am planning a character death, but I've changed my mind about character deaths before. I'm not going to say who it is, but I will say that it is a person who is already in the MCU. Whether or not I kill this character will probably depend on the reviews I get about the character.**

 **Anyway, enough of my yapping!**

* * *

Clint Barton shielded his eyes from the sunlight coming in through the window. All his mind could comprehend was that he just woke up and that his nose really itched.

When his eyes adjusted to the light, he sat up and stretched his arms before scratching his nose. To his surprise, he was not in his bedroom with Laura. Instead it was a small room with nothing but a dresser and the sheetless bed he was sitting on. The green wallpaper was falling off at multiple spots. There was only one window, the dust particles dancing in the sunlight that shone through it.

He sighed when he remembered the airport fight, being arrested, and then busted out by Steve. This had been his room in the European safe house for two months, and he really missed his family. Nat had been kind enough to exchange letters between him and Laura as well as the occasional drawing from Lila, but it wasn't nearly as satisfying as being with his wife and kids.

He stood, the wooden floor creaking under his weight. Judging by how bright it was, Sam and Steve were already back from their jog through the woods. Their jogs were noticeably shorter since they became fugitives. Despite being in the middle of nowhere, everyone took extra precautions to be sure they weren't caught.

Already dressed, Clint walked down the stairs to the conjoined kitchen and living room. Just as he had predicted, Sam and Steve were eating cereal and having a conversation. "Morning."

"Morning," said Steve as Sam nodded in acknowledgement.

Clint opened the fridge and pulled out a carton of eggs. "What's the plan for today?"

"Nick should be here in a few hours. He'll let us know if anything's going on that needs our attention," Steve answered.

Sam said, "You'd think with the Avengers being split that all the bad guys would be wrecking havoc. Makes me very suspicious."

"You think they're biding their time?" asked Clint as he placed a pan on the stove.

"I'm not sure what it is that I'm suspicious of, but I'm suspicious."

Clint cracked the egg and carefully slid its contents onto the pan. The lack of any criminal activity hadn't really concerned him. It just meant they could focus more on staying hidden, and more importantly, that the public was safe. He whistled to himself as he cracked open another egg.

Scott Lang entered the kitchen, his hair disheveled and his beard in desperate need of a shave. "I hate this place. Why can't I just freeze myself until this blows over like Bucky?"

Steve flinched before looking down at his cereal. It had been a few weeks since Bucky was frozen in Wakanda. Steve had been extremely down, depressed even. Most of them had figured out not to mention Bucky going under. Lang was the only one whose skull was too dense to realize the impact of his words.

Clint couldn't even begin to imagine what Steve was feeling. He thought his friend died, then the guy shows up seventy years later trying to kill him, then they seemed to at least somewhat patch things up, and now Steve had to say goodbye to Bucky for who knows how long. To cope, Steve had tried to keep himself busy, but it was proving difficult when in such a small space with little to do. That's why everyone tried to talk to him as much as possible.

"Shut up, Tic-tac," said Sam.

"Geez," Scott replied as he sat at the table with them.

Clint grabbed a spatula from a drawer, successfully drowning out the argument that proceeded between the two of them. He had plenty of practice making breakfast while two children were arguing in the morning.

"Do I smell eggs?" Clint turned his head to see Wanda had entered the room, rubbing sleep out of her eyes.

He turned his attention back to his breakfast. "That'd be me. You want me to make you some?"

"No, I think I'll make my own when you're done."

Clint nodded. Ever since defeating Ultron, Clint had subtly looked after her whenever they were together. She had been the most important person to Pietro. If Clint could do anything to pay Pietro back, making sure his twin sister was safe would be the best thing he could do. It's what Pietro would be doing if he were still alive. He just tried to refrain from smothering her. So far he seemed to be doing alright. He knew she would say something if he wasn't.

He heard Wanda scooch a chair away from the table and take a seat. "I hope Natasha and Fury bring new puzzles. I've put together the ones they gave us and I'm getting bored."

"You could tear them apart and do it all over again," Steve suggested.

"I did. Three times."

Clint looked over. "You could watch Pride and Prejudice or Dirty Dancing. Nat gave them to me as a joke about three weeks ago."

Steve took out a little notebook-his list of things he needs to catch up on Clint realized-and flipped through some pages. "Tony said that I should watch something called Magic Mike. Maybe we could request that."

Wanda and Scott looked at Steve in total shock. Sam nearly choked on his cereal, some milk spilling out of his mouth and Clint nearly dropped the spatula.

Steve observed all of their reactions. "That's the movie about a magician, right?"

For a superhero, Stark is pretty evil.

Nobody seemed to have the heart to tell Steve what Magic Mike was actually about. Clint got a plate to put his eggs on, Wanda stood to make her own breakfast, Sam stared at his cereal, and Scott tapped his foot as he looked everywhere but at Steve.

Before Steve could inquire more about the movie, the door opened, saving them all. The first person to come in was Natasha, carrying a few paper bags filled with groceries. Behind her was Nick Fury, carrying a laptop and charger.

"Oh thank God," Scott breathed out.

Natasha set the groceries on the counter by Wanda. "We have a surprise for everyone!"

"Oh?" Clint said before sitting at the table. He figured it had something to do with the laptop. Fury and Nat never brought phones or computers for fear of being tracked to the safe house. The only electronics in the building were the TV in the corner and Sam's game boy that Nat managed to smuggle out of headquarters.

Natasha reached into one of the grocery bags, but instead of food, she pulled out a thick book. "For Wanda."

Wanda looked over at her gift, her hands still occupied with the pan and spatula. Clint craned his head to try and look at the book. He couldn't understand the title of it, but whatever it was, she sure seemed happy to see it.

"How did you even find it?!" she asked.

Nat shrugged before setting the book on the counter. "It wasn't hard. It just took a few online searches."

"Anything for me?" asked Sam.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a little game boy game. "I finally found that game you lost. Turns out Tony had borrowed it before everything happened. I managed to sneak it away from him."

She tossed it to Sam, who caught it with ease. "When this whole fugitive thing is over, I'm putting all of my games in a safe where Tony can't get them."

"You honestly think that will stop him?" asked Steve.

Sam seemed to consider Steve's question. "He is persistent."

"Steve," she said as she pulled out a brand new sketchbook. She threw it at him like a frisbee. He caught it before nodding in thanks.

Scott was holding his hands up, ready to catch something, and smiling in anticipation for his gift. Clint knew Natasha had seen him but was pretending like she didn't notice. She simply began unpacking the groceries. He couldn't help but smirk when Scott let his hands flop to his sides.

"Oh come on. You said everyone," Scott whined.

Clint hadn't noticed that Fury had gone to the couch on the other side of the room and set up the laptop on the coffee table. "You'll have to wait for Barton to finish talking to his family before you can talk to your daughter."

Clint nearly choked on his eggs as the words registered in his mind. He honestly wouldn't have cared if he did. All that mattered was that after months of not being with his family, he'd get to see them again. Sure it was through a computer screen, but Clint still felt like he could fly or cheer.

He practically ran to the couch and plopped down next to Fury, "And no one's going to track us?"

"This is completely private. I've been repeatedly checking for over a month now. However, we need to keep this brief. Just a precaution"

Clint refused to take his eyes off the screen as Fury opened Skype. Excitement bubbled up inside him. The seconds it took for Fury to call and Laura to answer took too long.

The image of Laura sitting in their computer room and holding Nathaniel popped onto the screen. She had her hair pulled back in a messy ponytail and there was dirt on her clothes from working in the garden, but to Clint, it was like looking at a goddess. Her smile reflected his own joy. The type that spoke volumes about how much she missed him.

His year old son was wearing a blue onesie and was too preoccupied biting his knuckles to look at the screen. Since the last time Clint had seen him, Nathaniel had seemingly grown a couple of inches as well as some more light hair on his head. He suddenly felt very lucky that he was able to witness all of Nate's firsts. Had he left home a month earlier than he did, he would have missed his first steps.

Fury tilted the laptop so that only Clint's face was showing in the window at the bottom corner. "All yours."

Laura waved while exclaiming, "Surprise!"

Clint was initially lost for words, but settled with, "I'm... I'm so happy to see you!"

Having heard his father's voice, Nathaniel stopped chewing his fist and looked at the computer. His eyes lit up, he smiled, and he reached for the screen.

Laura chuckled, "Me too. The kids were worried that you wouldn't call before bedtime."

"Are they there now?"

"They're downstairs," she said before calling, "Cooper, Lila, your father's skyping!"

A few moments of silence. Then, Clint was able to hear running footsteps getting louder and louder. Lila was the first to enter the room, her face beaming and braided pigtails swinging behind her. After her was Cooper, whose expression was harder for Clint to read. Unlike Lila, who ran over to stand by her mother, he stayed back near the wall.

"Hi, Dad!" Lila exclaimed as she waved.

"Hi, Lila! How are you?!" he responded.

She shook her head. "My name's not Lila right now."

Clint raised his eyebrows at that. "Really? Because I could have sworn that's the name that Mom and I chose."

She stood up straighter with her shoulders back and her hands on her hips. It was an obvious attempt at a heroic stance. "I'm Kate Bishop, Defender of Earth!"

Cooper looked like he was about to sigh or groan, but one look from Laura stopped him.

"Well Kate Bishop, Defender of Earth, how are you?" asked Clint.

"I'm okay. Since you left I've been drawing and reading more. And I've been using my toy bow and arrow to defeat the bad guys. Mom says I can't use your arrows."

"I think she's right. Maybe when you're a little older, Sweetheart." He moved his eyes to focus on Cooper. "What have you been up to, Buddy?"

He shrugged. "Nothing."

"You had to have done something these past two months."

Laura looked back at Cooper. "Tell him about the party you went to."

"All we did was have pizza and play video games," he replied.

"Weren't you outside at some point? By a fire pit?"

"For a little."

Clint asked, "What was this party even for?"

"Jack's birthday," Cooper answered.

Clint knew he wouldn't be able to get much more out of Cooper. He had always been a quiet kid, only saying a few words when necessary. As much as he wanted to hear more about what Cooper was up to, Clint felt pushing him wouldn't be a good idea.

The sound of cooing drew in Clint's attention. Nathaniel was still reaching toward the screen and was now even grabbing for him.

"I'm afraid that's not going to work, Nate," he said, "You can't grab me through a screen."

Nathaniel cooed more at his nickname. A bit of drool began leaking out of the corner of his mouth. Laura, being the experienced mother she was, noticed and wiped it off with her finger.

Lila was looking quizzically at her brother. "He still doesn't do anything."

Laura chuckled. "He just needs to get used to walking and he'll be running along side you." She explained to Clint, "Nate still prefers to be carried everywhere."

"Who wouldn't prefer that?' said Clint.

He felt Fury nudge his arm. "I'm afraid we need to wrap this up."

Clint felt his heart break a little, but he knew Fury was right. Keeping his eyes downcast, he nodded.

"We have to eat dinner anyway," said Laura.

Clint smirked at her. "And I have to eat breakfast."

Laura gently held Nathaniel's wrist and used it to wave at Clint. "Say bye to Dad!"

The disappointment Lila was feeling was evident on her face. "Bye Dad. I miss you." Cooper waved a little behind her.

Laura was the one who hesitantly ended the call. Their faces disappearing didn't stop Clint from staring at the screen. He smiled, his mood lifted since he woke up.

"Can I use it now, Arrow Guy?" he heard Scott ask.

He suddenly remembered that he and Fury weren't the only ones in the room. Turning back, he saw that everyone was sitting at the table either eating or smiling at him. Scott's foot was bouncing as he waited eagerly for an answer.

Clint thought it was best not to keep him waiting. "Sure."

* * *

 **Anyone catch a reference to the comics? ;)**

 **I'm already editing the second chapter. I would love to hear your thoughts!**


	2. Cross' Introduction and Back at the Farm

**Sorry it took so long to upload! I meant to have it up a week after the last chapter, but I wanted to make sure I had something worth posting.**

 **School is done, so I'll have more time to write. Chapter 3 should be up much quicker than this one.**

* * *

 _Agent Cross,_

 _Due to your new temper and worrying views of the Avengers, my superiors have been urging me to fire you. I've held them off as best I could, but you know how persistent they are. Not only do I consider you a friend, but your skills with technology are impeccable and you're by far the best gunman and interrogator in the CIA._

 _For these reasons, I encourage you to resign for the time being. The CIA needs your skills once everything in your life settles out. It would be much easier to rejoin after a resignation rather than a termination. Not to mention, it would pain me to fire you._

 _I implore you, follow my advice._

William Cross, an older man who had more gray hair than brown, set the letter back on his desk before walking to the other side of his apartment. Taking a seat in his red recliner, he allowed his rage to fester.

That letter had been sent to him two and a half years ago. He had brushed it off, thinking that the sender-whose name he refused to say-wouldn't dare give in to the demands of his superiors. A month later, he was greeted by a pink slip on his desk.

What happened next was a blur. He remembered yelling at all of his superiors and desperately refraining from punching anyone, but he didn't remember whatever happened specifically that had caused him to be escorted out of the building. Everything from his desk, including the pink slip, was sent to his home. That piece of paper had since been ripped to shreds and sprinkled in to flames.

Cross kept the letter he just read as a reminder as to who had wronged him and why. He knew he had always been easy to irritate since the accident, but it hadn't had any effect on his job that Cross had noticed. His colleagues had adjusted to his behavior in a matter of weeks. It was his lack of trust in superheroes that caused everyone to shun him.

Even before the Avengers formed, Cross didn't trust any form of superhuman. And while members like the Falcon, Iron Man, Black Widow, and Hawkeye didn't have any enhancements or supernatural abilities, they were powerful and now had allies with actual powers. If they wanted to, the Avengers could destroy governments, enslave humanity, and they have already caused collateral damage to major cities. He seemed to be the only one who understood the risk of their existence.

He shared his views with the wrong agent and was reported. S.H.I.E.L.D. had just fallen at the time, and the CIA was trying to weed out any possible HYDRA member or sympathizer. While Cross didn't support HYDRA's ideals in any way shape or form, his opinion alone was enough to cause trouble.

That was the true reason as to why he was thrown out. He knew that. His 'friend' knew that. Everyone knew that.

Sighing, he grabbed the remote next to him and turned on the tiny TV in front of him. The interview with Secretary Ross he had planned to see had already started. Even with the bad definition, Cross could see Ross' supposedly calm demeanor as he sat across from the reporter. With years of interrogations under his belt, Cross could see his true emotions. Annoyance, worry, and anger were the first three that came to his mind.

Not wanting to turn up the volume and annoy his neighbors, Cross adjusted the dial on the hearing aid in his left ear.

 _"Of course we immediately suspected the remaining Avengers to know,"_ said Ross, _"but after some polygraph tests, we now realize that they are just as clueless as us."_

Cross chuckled at that. Lie detector tests were highly unreliable. He's seen multiple people trick them by either taking a relaxant or simply staying calm enough that their heart rate didn't get too high.

 _"What about King T'Challa?"_ asked the reporter.

 _"We have no reason to believe he knows where they are. Even if we did, it'd be foolish to try and interrogate someone with his kind of power."_

 _"And the Spider-Man?"_

Ross rolled his eyes, _"Would be a waste of time. No evidence suggests that he would know where to find any of them."_

 _"If you had to guess, where is the most likely place where we can find Captain America and the others?"_

 _"Information we do find that suggest their whereabouts is classified."_

The secretary fidgeted with his hands for only a split second, but it was enough for Cross to tell that he was lying. The US government had no information.

Cross could already tell that this interview had nothing useful for him and he switched off the TV. It was apparent that he knew nothing more than Cross did. Maybe even less. Nothing had gotten done in the past few months.

He decided a long time ago that if the CIA wasn't going to handle things accordingly, he'd have to do it himself.

* * *

Back at the Bartons' farm, the remaining family members were sitting around the table. Laura fed the last of the baby food from the jar to Nathaniel, finally allowing her to focus on her own meal of chicken, mashed potatoes, and green beans.

"I'm done!" Lila announced as she tried to get off the chair.

Laura looked at her daughter's plate. "I still see some green beans."

"I had _one_ ," she responded.

"And do you think one green bean is going to make you big and strong?"

Lila sighed as she picked her fork back up. "No."

Laura smiled. "You'll thank me someday."

Lila stabbed a green bean with a fork. She stared at it in absolute disgust before biting it. Once she had stopped dramatically cringing, she looked over at Cooper. "How come he's not eating anything?"

Laura looked across the table to see that she was right. Cooper hadn't bitten into any of his food. He was simply moving the chicken pieces around the plate with his fork.

"Cooper?" she said, "Aren't you hungry?"

He set his fork down, but didn't look up from his food, "Not really."

She couldn't deny that Cooper had been acting strangely since Clint left. In fact, she had fully expected negative reactions from her children. Cooper had gotten even quieter than usual, refused to participate in his sister's games, and was overall isolating himself to the point where it was unhealthy. However, he had never lost his appetite in the past two months. "Are you alright, Sweetie?"

"I'm fine. Just tired."

Cooper may have always been a more private person, but Laura knew him well enough to know when he was lying. "Does it have to do with Dad?"

Cooper shook his head, but she didn't miss the split second when he looked like a deer caught in the headlights. He picked his fork back up and ate a piece of chicken, as if to ensure her that nothing was wrong. Laura didn't buy it.

"When will we get to talk to him again?" asked Lila.

Laura turned back to her. "Whenever Fury can set up another time for us."

"I hope it's soon," Lila said before eating another green bean. She grimaced at the taste, but chewed anyway. "I miss him."

Laura nodded. "We all do, Sweetheart. And I'm sure he misses us just as much."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Cooper tentatively taking another bite of chicken. Worry overcame her. She knew she had to try something.

"I'm sure skipping green beans once wouldn't hurt," said Laura, "Why don't you go ahead and go play?"

Lila didn't waste time in getting out of her seat and out of the kitchen. Laura sighed as she looked at Cooper. He was giving no indication that he knew Lila left. Rather, he just kept looking at his plate as if lost in his own little world.

"You don't have to hide anything from me, Cooper."

Finally, he looked up at her. "I'm not."

"Sweetheart, I've known you your whole life. Don't you think I'd know if something was wrong?"

He didn't answer her. Instead, he set his fork down and leaned back in his chair.

"I know it's frustrating when your dad leaves. Sadly, it's just something he has to do when the world needs him. I realize this time is different because he's on the run, but we need to have faith that he'll come back to us. Until then, we'll just have to keep our chins up and continue our lives here. We can do that for Dad, can't we?"

"I'm fine, Mom, really. I mean I miss him, but it's not anything new, right?"

"Cooper..."

He continued, "Don't you remember how whenever he'd come back home it'd be Lila jumping in his arms while I just said hi?"

"But you'd be smiling and hugging him too."

"I can't exactly hug him through the screen." Well he's still got the smart mouth and sarcasm he inherited from Clint. So Cooper hadn't _completely_ changed.

"I want you to talk to him more. You were giving him the cold shoulder today and I want you to actually enjoy his company next time. He wants nothing more than to be a part of your life. You know that, right?"

Cooper seemed to be deep in thought, giving Laura hope that she had gotten through to him. That hope was dashed a second later. "May I be excused?"

She sighed in defeat, but smiled anyway. "If you're not hungry. Just put your food in the fridge so you can eat it later."

He quickly followed her instructions and went upstairs. He was going to his room, no doubt. Cooper had spent a lot of time up there recently. Another factor that caused Laura to worry about him.

Clint couldn't return soon enough. Every time he had left, it was like he was taking a piece of her with him. It left her feeling partially hurt and empty. This time, however, his absence was more painful. He was a wanted man in almost every country in the world. Suddenly, thousands of people rather than a handful of villains wanted to take him away from her and their children.

Thankfully, most of the world doesn't know about their marriage and family, so no one tried to investigate the farm... yet. Laura didn't think Cooper and Lila would handle a bunch of police officers swarming their home very well.

She was snapped out of her thoughts by Nathaniel giggling. Apparently, she had missed the baby food that spilled on the plastic surface of his high chair, and now he was wiping it all over with his hands.

At least he was too little and innocent to understand what was going on. Laura tried to focus on that aspect as she ate.

* * *

 **In the comics, Cross actually quits the CIA (depending on the version, he either quits normally or fakes his death and frames it on his fiance), but I figured having him fired would add some more frustration to his character.**

 **We'll be back with Team Cap in the next chapter! And I promise it will be longer!**


	3. Target Practice

**It has been too long!**

 **I got wrapped up in some personal issues lately (some of which still needs to be sorted out). I apologize for the delay and how short this chapter is. I plan on making the following ones much longer and have a strategy on how to do that.**

* * *

A songbird, tired of flying, landed on top of a target with a few arrows in the middle. Before it could relax, another arrow hit the center and the bird flew into the thick grove of trees that surrounded the safe house.

There was a large amount of land between the lodge and forest. Clint took the liberty of using space in the front for shooting arrows with his new bow, the old one broken by T'Challa. He was standing a few yards away from the target, Natasha observing next to him.

Clint drew back another arrow. "So how'd you beat it? The polygraph, I mean."

As he released the new arrow, Natasha answered, "Tony hacked the machine that morning."

He looked at her, confused. "I thought he didn't know you were helping us."

"He doesn't, but he's highly suspicious. Though I don't think he's about to ask me."

"Ah," Clint said before pulling out the last arrow from his quiver. "Playing dumb. Tony's good at that. A little too good."

He shot the last arrow before jogging over to the target. Once he reached it, he put the arrows a few at a time back in the quiver. When the target was clear again, he returned to his spot next to Nat. Both had lost count how many times Clint had to repeat those actions since he began practice that day.

"I know you don't want to wear down all of your arrows in case of an emergency," said Natasha, "but you must have hundreds here. Using a few more for practice couldn't hurt."

Clint pulled back the arrow. "Not risking it. The more arrows I have that aren't worn down, the better." As he continued to shoot, he asked, "So how long has this Kate Bishop thing been going on?"

Nat smiled. "She started not long after you went into hiding. She'll use her toy bow and arrow to go on 'missions' around the farm. I have to say, she's not half bad."

Clint felt pride swell within him. Memories of him kneeling next to Lila, helping her aim arrows at a target, flashed in his mind. "Taught her everything she knows."

"Lila will be an Avenger yet."

He nearly cringed. "I'd like my kids to be kids for now, thanks."

She nodded before saying, "Understandable. Especially now, being so far from them. You long to be apart of their childhood." There was a beat of silence before she continued, "They miss you. More than you realize, they miss you. Laura says that Nate seems to look for you sometimes. Lila is always asking about you and Cooper is just so... distant from everyone lately. The girls were begging to see you when the topic of Skype came up."

He stopped shooting and turned to face her. "Listen, I can't thank you and Fury enough for letting me see my family. You have no idea how much it means to me."

"Yeah, well, we figured you needed it." She smiled.

"I'm even more thankful that you're looking after them. While Laura is more than capable to handle everything at home, it's nice to know that she has backup. The updates and notes you bring from time to time are also greatly appreciated."

Her smile disappeared as she became serious. "You know I view them as my own family. Looking out for them requires no thanks on your part. It's just what families do for each other."

Clint nodded. Natasha had come a long way since her days as an emotionless assassin for the Soviet Union. When they met, he was too impressed by her abilities to go through with his mission of taking her out. It took days and there were a few mishaps, but he was able to convince her to at least go to the states. Much of the negotiations they made happened while he had a gun pointed at him too, a fact he kept to himself for her sake.

After months of deprogramming everything the KGB and Red Room had instilled in her mind, Clint had made the mistake of keeping a photo of Laura, Cooper, and Lila in the 'privacy' of his room. It didn't take long for her to find it. To Clint's surprise, his new friend had agreed to keep them a secret.

Fury exited the lodge with the laptop tucked under his arm. "Widow, we need to get going."

She nodded in his direction before turning her attention back to Clint. "I have some business to take care of in Spain. Fury and I should be back in two days. Think you can take care of yourself for that long?"

He rolled his eyes but laughed at her teasing. "I think I'll be okay. Have fun."

Nat smiled before following Fury into the woods. Clint decided he'd had enough practice for the day and went back inside. He could collect the arrows that were in the target later. Right now, he just wanted to get a drink, kick back, and relax with his friends.

* * *

That night, the five of them had turned out the lights and were watching the beginning of _Beauty and the Beast_. Apparently, Scott's daughter had recommended it and had sent her own copy with Natasha and Fury that day. Seeing as they had no other movies to watch, everyone but Sam ("If police or spies or whatever break into the house, it's not going to be while I'm watching a Disney princess movie!") agreed to play it. Unfortunately for Sam, he slept on the couch and had no where else to go.

They had turned off the lights. Steve and Sam were sitting in front of the coffee table on the floor. On the couch, Scott and Wanda sat with Clint sandwiched between them. Clint was holding a bottle of beer and had his feet propped up on the table.

"Are you sure you never met him?" asked Scott.

Steve didn't take his eyes off of the screen as he answered, "If I had met Walt Disney, I would remember."

Clint nursed his beverage as he looked toward Wanda. Despite it being nearly pitch black, she was still observing the book Nat had brought her. _Die Flügel der Liebe_ , it was called. He knew some German, and was sure that was the language the title was in, but wasn't sure what it meant. No one had asked Wanda what it was about, but it must be a very good book from the way she couldn't help but smile whenever she looked at it.

It was hard to tell in the dark, but it seemed like she was tracing the letters of the title with her finger. The movie had none of her attention as the first conversation took place. It intrigued Clint that she was focusing instead on something that she could barely see. Looking back at the others, they didn't seem to notice Wanda's behavior.

Slowly, Wanda hugged the book, gripping it like her life depended on it. A tear, reflecting the light from the television, began to roll down her cheek. Clint was thinking about the best way to comfort her when he noticed that she was smiling. Never had he seen her look so at peace.

He suddenly felt like he was intruding on something very personal, so he turned back to the television. He was too familiar with the movie for it to successfully grab his attention. Instead, his mind began to wander.

From what Natasha had told him, there weren't any signs that the UN would be begging for Captain America and his team back anytime soon. It's not like there had been much activity going on against the law lately. At least none that they had been aware of. It was still a waiting game, and Clint was getting sick and tired of it. Months of being cooped up in one area were finally catching up to him. He wished someone could somehow make the UN forget that the whole thing had happened.

Certainly someone out there had to be fighting for their cause. T'Challa had publicly drawn his support for the Sokovia Accords as much as he could without looking suspicious. Nat herself, while publicly following the Accords, had voiced her concerns about it. Even so, like T'Challa, she had to be careful too. They were direct links to their little sanctuary in this forest. And while Clint knew Nat would never betray them, there might be evidence as to her whereabouts. If Clint and his friends were found, they were going back to that prison in the ocean.

Clint sighed before downing the rest of his drink.

* * *

 **The next chapter has already been written and is being edited. Also, it's much longer than the average chapters so far.**

 **And guess what dog is going to make an appearance! ;)**

 **Please, let me know what your thoughts are!**


	4. Trail of Pizza

**A longer chapter, as promised! Let's meet Lucky now!**

* * *

Clint was feeling even more trapped than he did last night. He figured playing chess with a master strategist like Steve could provide an effective distraction. Well he was now quickly losing for the fourth time in a row and it was more frustrating than anything.

Scott sat next to him at the table, eating pizza from the box. "I thought you'd be better at this."

Clint ignored him, choosing to concentrate on his strategy. Finding a move that seemed promising, he picked up his knight and set it on the new square.

Steve cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. "Do you want to redo that?

Clint shook his head. "I'm good."

"Because you should really-"

"There are no do-overs in chess."

Steve shrugged before moving his bishop. "Checkmate."

Sure enough, Clint's king was trapped by three of Steve's pieces. Sam laughed from his position in front of the sink. He paused washing the dishes to take a peek at the board. Scott himself was grinning like a madman. The only person not paying attention was Wanda, who was curled up on the couch reading _Die Flügel der Liebe_.

Clint decided that this wasn't working. He had to leave the lodge. Given the time of day, it would be more risky to be out than when Sam and Steve go for their morning jog, but perhaps spending less time out than them would make up for that.

He stood. "When you guys jog, where do you go?"

Steve answered, "We take the trail through the forest to the lake and run around it a few times."

"I think I'll go there for a quick walk."

"You sure?" asked Sam.

"If I'm trapped in here any longer, I just might turn myself in." He grabbed a slice of pizza before heading toward the door. "I'll see you guys in half an hour."

"I'd try for less than that," said Steve.

He nodded as he shut the door behind him.

* * *

The dirt trail was a lot easier to navigate than when they had first arrived at the forest. It took little time for Clint to reach the lake. He credited that to the fact he had to navigate the trail in the middle of the night before.

The dark and being rushed to the lodge had prevented Clint from truly observing the lake when Fury's aircraft dropped them off here. It looked cleaner than most that he had seen in his lifetime. He could see the bottom of the lake without any difficulty. Sometimes he'd see a frog jumping into the water or hopping around the bed. Other than that, Clint didn't think it'd be something people would look twice at.

He decided to walk the perimeter of the clearing, staying by the trees in case he needed to hide. Being out in the open didn't seem like an intelligent option.

As he walked and ate his pizza, he immersed himself in the newfound feeling of freedom. He always knew that he missed being able to go wherever he wanted, but he hadn't counted on it feeling so wonderful when he would finally leave the safe house. It felt like he had been on a leash for so long and that it had finally been removed. He could only imagine how it would feel when he was no longer on the run.

That fantastic feeling of freedom was dampened by the realization that he wasn't free at all. He couldn't just go to the nearest restaurant and order a bite to eat. He couldn't go to a library and search the shelves for something to read. Even at that moment, police or spies could be hiding among the trees, waiting for Clint or one of the others to slip up.

Clint groaned in annoyance. What he'd hadn't expected was something to make a noise in response. It caused him to freeze and he nearly ducked into the forest, but he managed to gather his wits and realize the noise he heard was a whine.

Following the direction of the noise, he looked toward some shrubs at the edge of the treeline. Through the green and brown of the leaves and branches of the bush, he saw hints of yellow. Cautiously, he moved toward it. There was a rustling of leaves as the thing moved, but it otherwise didn't try to run.

When Clint was in front of the shrubs and only a few feet away, he crouched down. Inside was a frightened yellow lab. There were a multitude of scratches and bite marks on his back, head, chest, and front legs. Its slightly muddied fur was more than likely hiding bruises and maybe even more scratches. The shrubbery was concealing most of his back half, but Clint could tell by the couple of ribs he saw that this dog was underweight.

"Hey there, little guy," Clint said gently, "What are you doing out here?"

The dog was absolutely still save for his sniffing nose and eyes that kept darting between Clint's face and his hand. He realized the hand that he kept looking at was the one holding the half-eaten pizza.

"You hungry?" he asked as he held out the food.

The dog crawled forward an inch, sniffing at the pizza that was offered to him. He hesitantly opened his mouth before snatching it and scarfing it down.

"Good boy." Clint held out his other hand to comfort the poor thing, but the lab moved backwards, shielding himself with the bushes.

Clint sighed. This dog wouldn't be able to fend for himself out here. Leaving him would be signing his death certificate, but the shrubs make it impossible to get to him. And even if Clint could somehow grab him, this dog didn't trust him to be taken back to the safe house. If he put up a fight, he'll injure himself further. The safest option would be for him to come out on his own.

"I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere," Clint told him before running back to the trail.

* * *

Clint entered the safe house. Wanda was still reading her book on the couch while the guys were talking at the table. Scott, thank God, hadn't finished the pizza.

"You're back early," Steve observed.

He didn't answer as he lifted the coffee table slightly off the ground. It took some effort, but he managed to move it behind the couch. The action caught everyone's attention. Wanda even looked up from her book.

He said, "Sorry Wanda, but I'm gonna need you to get off the couch."

She looked at him in bewilderment, but got up and moved to the table anyway. As soon as she was up, Clint removed all of the cushions and set them in front of the sofa as a makeshift mattress.

"What the hell are you doing?" asked Sam. Clint simply ran upstairs.

Scott snickered. "Maybe he's building a nest." When there was no response, he continued, "Because his name. It... it has hawk... I'll shut up now."

Clint returned with all of the extra pillows and blankets from the linen closet. He set them all on the cushion in a way that it would provide as much comfort and support as possible. Satisfied, he turned his attention to the pizza box.

There weren't many slices left. It would probably be all the dog could handle considering how underweight he might be. Clint just hoped it was enough to make it from the lake and to the lodge.

"I need to borrow this." He grabbed the box. "Everybody stay away from the couch."

Before anyone could ask questions, he left.

* * *

Clint made it back to the lake, pizza box in hand. Being sure not to go so fast that he would startle the lab, he went to the spot he found him.

He was still there. From what Clint could tell, he hadn't budged. Not surprising. His injuries probably made moving painful. Clint just hoped his instinct to eat would override the discomfort keeping him in place.

"Told you I'd be back." He opened the box and tore off a tiny piece. "I've got more pizza for you."

He set the piece down next to him before backing up a foot and repeating the action. The dog looked very tempted by the first piece, but he kept looking at Clint with apparent unease. Reading his mind, Clint went back even farther. Again, he tore off a bit before looking back. The lab had already crawled out of the bushes, eaten the first piece, and was limping toward the second.

The damage on the rest of his body wasn't nearly as bad. There were only a few more scratches on his back. Whatever hurt him attacked from the front. It was odd, considering predators use the element of surprise. From what Clint knew, not many animals pull an ambush from the front and doing so wasn't ideal. Sure the neck is where the killing bite happens, but the underbelly and flanks would be targeted too. Perhaps he was overthinking things.

Whatever happened, his stomach looked big enough to handle the rest of the pizza and he seemed capable to walk longer than a couple of feet for food. That means there can be more space between bits of pizza. In turn, that means it'll be more likely to reach the safe house. Hopefully, he had the strength to limp all the way there. If not, Clint would just have to carry him and hope he didn't put up a fight.

He continued his ritual to the trail and began the trek down.

* * *

He made it his goal to stay far away enough for the dog to be comfortable but also keep him in his sights. It was more tiring than he expected, but he finally made it to the safe house.

When Clint reached the door, the lab was nearing the end of the dirt trail and was seemingly almost out of strength. Without turning his back to him, Clint opened the door. Luckily it wasn't one of those doors that automatically swung closed. It'd be much harder to get him inside if someone was standing at the door to hold it open.

His friends were all watching him continue his trail of pizza from the table. Scott wasn't amused by what he was seeing. "My pizza!"

Clint shushed him as he set the last piece on the little bed he made. At first he set it in the middle, but moved it a little farther along to make sure the dog would have to get on the bed to get to it. Clint could see that the dog made it out of the trees, but his legs were visibly wobbling. Clint got behind the couch in an effort to put something between the lab and himself.

"Clint?" said Steve.

Clint merely held his hand out to them. "Stay where you are."

The dog was making good progress despite seemingly being on the verge of collapse. He was no longer paying attention to Clint. All he seemed to care about was getting to the next bite of pizza. Maybe Clint was forgotten due to all of his energy focused on moving forward.

The lab poked his head through the doorway, sniffing his new surroundings before deciding it was safe and stepping inside. Now in view, everyone was unsurprisingly shocked. Steve slowly stood while Wanda put a hand over her mouth and Sam's mouth formed a silent 'oh.' Scott looked like he wasn't sure what to do. They seemed to understand the need to be quiet because nobody made a sound. They just stared as the dog limped into the lodge.

Steve whispered, "Wanda, shut the door."

It took a moment for her to react, but she held out her hands and the door creaked shut, red light surrounding it. The dog didn't seem to notice that he was trapped as he struggled to get onto the cushions and chewed the last piece. His legs continued to shake as he looked around for any more food. Next thing everyone knew, he flopped onto his side.

Steve walked to the stairs. "Somebody get him some water," he said before going up.

Clint immediately left his spot from behind the couch and searched for a bowl in the cabinets. He found a large glass one that he proceeded to fill with water.

Scott asked, "What happened to Pizza Dog over there?"

"Beats me." Clint carried the bowl over to 'Pizza Dog' and set it down. The dog only moved his head so that his tongue could reach the bowl. Clint scratched him behind the ear, pleasantly surprised when he didn't flinch away. He could feel that his fur was covered in several days worth of dirt.

Steve returned with a soaked washcloth. "We have to make sure none of the wounds get infected." He knelt next to Pizza Dog and started washing the scratches on his back.

The dog flinched-from pain most likely-so Clint started talking to him. "It's okay. Compared to whatever you've gone through to get these injuries in the first place, this is nothing."

"He can't understand you," said Scott.

Sam kicked Scott under the table. "It's the tone that matters."

Wanda shushed them before asking, ""How did you know he doesn't have rabies or something else? He could have bit you."

Clint shrugged. "He likes pizza. How bad can he be?"

"None of these wounds look life threatening," said Steve, "And if he had any internal bleeding, he'd be dead by now."

"How do you know?" asked Wanda.

"My mother was a nurse and I used to get into a lot of fights." Steve continued, "Nevertheless, he needs to get to a vet as soon as possible. He'll need shots and probably other kinds of medical attention."

"And how exactly are we supposed to do that?" said Sam.

Clint answered, "Nat and Fury are supposed to be back tomorrow. They can take him somewhere. Until then, he stays right here."

"He took my bed, so..."

He had forgotten Sam slept on the couch when he made Pizza Dog's bed. Clint had been too focused on the dog at the time.

Scott's eyes were trained on the cushion-less couch. "That does not look comfortable."

Clint had to agree. The outline of the springs were visible under the material usually covered by the cushions and a person lying down on it would have their head bent froward at an uncomfortable angle or have their neck resting uncomfortably on the arm. Clint's back and neck ached just looking at it. No one would get much sleep on that thing. However, Pizza Dog needed those cushions.

"Take my bed," said Clint, "I'll stay down here with him tonight."

Sam raised his eyebrows. "You sure?"

"He's the most familiar with me and someone needs to make sure nothing happens during the night. I want to stay with him."

"If you're su-"

"I am," Clint interrupted.

The smell of wet dog was becoming more prominent as Steve found more scratches and bitemarks to clean. Pizza Dog stared at the bowl of water, but didn't make a move to lap up more. Clint wondered if the hike tired him out too much. He had to want to wash his food down.

He definitely needed a vet or some sort of professional help. Clint just hoped that nothing would be keeping Nat and that she would be here to rush him to an animal hospital.

* * *

 **For those of you who don't know, Lucky's nickname in the comics was Pizza Dog. That's where that comes from.**

 **I would really appreciate if you shared your thoughts with me! I love hearing all of your opinions!**


	5. A Lucky Dog

**So... it's been awhile.**

 **Life got really hectic and I had no time to work on fan fiction. _Jaws of Evil_ and _Until Dawn: Ashley_ are now on hiatus until further notice. However, during my time off the website I gained an interest in other fandoms, so I'm going to be working on a fic for that too. Not to mention, I recently gotten an idea for a Marvel fic that is compliant with Infinity War. I will be posting the release dates for every upcoming chapter from now on.**

 **Thank you all for your patience.**

* * *

The couch ended up being even more uncomfortable than it looked. An hour into trying to fall asleep, Clint decided to sit up with the blanket from his bed bundled up behind to protect his back from the arm. Still, the damage had been done. His neck and back felt like they had been lying on a bunch of rocks.

Giving up on sleep, he turned his head to look at the dog still lying on the little bed he made. As soon as Steve finished cleaning his wounds he had been drinking a lot of water with short naps in between. Clint lost count how many times he had to refill the bowl. If the green glow of his pupils were anything to go by, Pizza Dog was just staring at nothing in particular.

Clint couldn't tell how Pizza Dog was feeling now. He obviously had to be tired and in pain, but he could also be bored or lonely. Clint himself had been injured on numerous occasions during his career and had to spend long periods of time doing nothing but healing. It was really easy to become bored, especially when you have nothing to keep you entertained. The underwater prison was like that as well. Worse really because he hadn't been allowed to talk to anyone but Stark. The only thing he did was brood.

"I know how you feel," Clint found himself saying, "Hurt, unable to do anything. It seems like you'll never recover, but you will."

Pizza Dog's glowing eyes were now trained on Clint. He felt like he should be creeped out by the sight, what with glowing eyes in the dark never being a good sign in movies, but it seemed to have the opposite effect. It actually encouraged him to talk more.

"When I first began working as an agent, I would get hurt all the time. Broken bones, black eyes, you name it. Even now, I'm not injured, but I might as well be. I can't leave this forest or I'd get arrested. What about you? Why are you stuck in this forest? We're miles away from civilization. Your owner must be really worried about you."

He kept looking at Clint as if he was truly listening and comprehending the words he was saying. In reality, he was probably just curious as to why he was talking.

"My name's Clint by the way. Clint Barton. But most of the world knows me as Hawkeye. That's because I'm good at shooting arrows. Sure it's not as impressive as super strength, flying, or telekinesis, but hey, what am I going to do? Frankly, I'm glad I'm not in the spotlight as much as the others. I don't get much more than a few curious glances when I'm out. It allows me to live a semi-quiet life on my farm."

Pizza Dog's tail thumped against one of the cushions. He was still looking at Clint as if prompting him to tell him more. To distract him from the pain of his current situation. Clint decided the best way to do that was to talk about what cheers him up during dark times.

"You know, my son Cooper used to beg my wife and me to get a dog all the time. He was very disappointed when we explained that we didn't have the money for one. Back then, my salary wasn't much to brag about and my wife and I already had him, a new baby, and some farm animals to take care of. As soon as my daughter Lila could talk, she began saying that she wanted a dog too."

He still remembered Lila skipping into the room while he and Laura were talking and asking if they could get a dog. The unexpected question/request amused them, Clint even more when his 20/20 vision saw Cooper peeking out from behind a in another room. No doubt he was the mastermind behind her question.

"They would love you. If they were here and you were healthy, Cooper would insist on playing fetch and teaching you tricks and Lila would just run around and cuddle with you. Hard to say what my son Nate would do. He might try to climb on your back or grab your ears. I'd hope you wouldn't take it personally. He's barely a toddler. And my wife, her name is Laura, will do everything in her power to make sure that you're comfortable. Honestly, I think you'd love them too. Labrador retrievers are supposed to be family dogs right?"

Clint knew he shouldn't be entertaining the thought of having Pizza Dog as the newest member of the family. He'd still have to discuss it with Laura, and that's if he didn't already have an owner who was looking for him. Not to mention, being on the run as a war criminal wasn't really the best time to adopt. And yet...

"You need a name. Pizza Dog is an okay nickname but it doesn't really sound at all like an official name. Personally, I feel like Buddy is overused. If I named you Pal, my kids would think I named you after that dog from the show about the talking aardvark. You don't really look like a Rascal or a Killer. Really the only famous yellow lab I know is Old Yeller and I'm not naming you after him. Or maybe... we need to think of a name that means something. That's relevant to you. Of course I've known you for less than twenty-four hours, so there's still a lot about your personality that I don't know. I'd have to really think here."

So Clint thought about what he knew about Pizza Dog so far. He had a strong will to live, that was for sure. He had days worth of dirt on him. He was attacked by something, but managed to be found by Clint. So far he seemed like a kind dog. That was really all Clint knew about him. It was really amazing how Pizza Dog was even still among the living. That's when hit him.

Pizza dog was lucky to have survived in the woods for so long. He was lucky to get away from his attacker. He was lucky that Clint decided to go for a walk and that he spotted him. He was lucky to be lying in the safety of the lodge at that moment. He was just lucky to be alive despite everything had seemingly been stacked against him.

"Lucky," said Clint, "I know it's also a common dog name, but it just seems to suit you so well. That is if you like the name."

Clint, of course, wasn't expecting Lucky to reply. He smiled before looking up at the ceiling, contemplating what he was going to say next. He hadn't noticed that his hand had flopped over the side of the couch until he felt something wet touch it. When he looked over, Lucky was licking the back of his hand. It puzzled Clint. He had eaten hours ago and had washed his hands since then, so it couldn't have anything to do with food.

He didn't want to jump to conclusions, but he felt it had to be affection. His heart warmed at the gesture even as Lucky moved his head away and closed his eyes. Clint was suddenly aware of how tired he was and how he desperately needed sleep. After all, Nat was going to be here in the morning and he had to give her special instructions and details the others couldn't.

"Goodnight, Lucky." Clint shut his eyes and let the chirping crickets and Lucky's even breathing lull him to sleep.

* * *

Sam and Steve walking down the steps and out the door for their jog had awoken Clint from an uneasy sleep. Careful not to step on Lucky, he stood and headed to the sink to get a new bowl of water.

His back and neck were killing him, and he gained a headache during the night. He rubbed his neck in an effort to ease it, but it did little to help. Despite this, he couldn't find it in himself to regret staying with Lucky the night before. He knows from experience that loneliness can hurt more than physical pain.

He filled the bowl and set it down in front of Lucky. Pizza Dog opened his eyes and looked at the water. Instead of drinking, he looked up at Clint and whined.

"What? Oh, you haven't eaten since yesterday." He went to the fridge and opened it. "We don't have anymore pizza, but we have ham. Is that okay?" Clint held up the package of sliced ham. He heard a tail continuously knock against the cushions. "I take that as a yes."

Grabbing a few slices, he returned to Lucky. The dog barely missed Clint's fingers as he ate from his hand. When he realized Clint didn't have anymore food, he focused on drinking the water.

"How is he?" Clint peeked over to the stairs to see Wanda in her pajamas. She seemed almost as tired as Clint felt. Her hair was a mess and there were bags under her eyes.

"He's eating and drinking, and he probably got more sleep than I did. Right, Lucky?"

The dog in question was only focused on the water.

"You named him?"

Clint sat as he petted Lucky, careful not to rub any injuries. "He needed a name."

Wanda didn't respond at first, but she soon confessed, "Part of me wondered if he would survive the night. Whenever I tried to sleep, I saw... Lucky... dying in his sleep or us being forced to bury him in the backyard."

"I think he'll be fine," he replied, voice filled with hope, "but he needs to get to a vet. Nat and Fury can't come sooner."

She walked over and sat on the cushion-less couch. "Will the vet be able to find out what happened to him?"

"Maybe. Why? What do you think happened?"

Wanda didn't answer at first, looking down at her hands instead. "How long does a dog have to be in the woods to get this bad?"

Clint focused on the visible scratches. The depth, shape, and amount of them didn't suggest that they come from the thorns of a bush. That along with the obvious bite marks suggests that this was a deliberate attack by something. He thought back to yesterday when he wondered why there were very few injuries on his back half. Lucky had to have been facing his attacker and/or in a position where the animal could only attack from the front. An ambush was most likely off the table as a scenario.

"Something did this to him," said Clint, "Maybe a pack of wolves?"

"If he escaped a pack of wolves, that really does make him lucky."

Clint chuckled, "I have chosen well."

Lucky finished his water and placed his head back on his bed. His eyes trailed to Wanda's face, possibly trying to make sense of her presence.

"Hi. Remember me?" she asked.

He blinked a few times before moving his eyes to look at Clint.

"She's safe. Just don't piss her off."

Wanda leaned down and scratched Lucky's head. "I don't think he can."

The front door opened, but instead of Nat and Fury like he hoped, it was just Sam. Lucky was only able to raise his head about an inch at the sound of the door squeaking. He tensed as he heavily inhaled, trying to figure out who it was he couldn't see.

Clint was quick to pet and comfort him. "It's just Sam. You're okay."

Lucky visibly relaxed some, but he still seemed on guard. Clint tried his best to stay calm too, even though he was slightly worried about where Steve was.

Sam answered the unspoken question. "Steve wanted to make sure Natasha and Fury knew what was going on. They need to get in and out today."

Clint nodded. "As well as they can take surprises, it's probably best that they know that there's a dog in here before they step inside."

The dog in question whined and slowly shifted his position. Lucky didn't need to talk to convey how much agony he was in. His demeanor and specks of blood on the sheets did it well enough.

Clint whispered to himself, "Come on Nat..."

* * *

 **Help is on the way for Lucky! Feel free to give me your honest opinion!**


	6. The Vet

**Guess who's internet connection went on the fritz today?! :D Mine!**

 **In all seriousness, my internet wasn't working well today. I was actually editing this chapter online when it decided to quit and I lost all of my progress. I'm very sorry about that.**

 **Anyway, this chapter is a short one, but it's a really important one too. We finally find out what caused Lucky's injuries and establish where he's going to be staying from now on.**

* * *

The front door opened to reveal Steve, Nat, and Fury. Clint felt Lucky go tense under his hand, seemingly distressed by the scent of new people.

Nat moved so that she was in Lucky's line of sight. The two made eye contact for a few good seconds before she spoke. "If we pick him up he'll fight back. At least as much as he can in his condition."

Steve said, "I agree, but he's in no condition to walk. It's a miracle Clint even managed to get him here."

Clint asked, "Did you guys have sedatives by any chance?"

Nick shook his head. "None that we can use on dogs."

"That's the only way you can keep him unconscious. Lucky's in too much pain to sleep soundly. He may have gotten more sleep than me last night, but that's not saying much."

Everyone sat or stood in silence thinking about what to do next. Then, Wanda held her hand about a foot over Lucky. A stream of red light drifted from her hand to his head. For a moment, his irises turned red, but the color quickly changed back to normal as his eyelids drooped closed.

"I don't know how long he'll stay asleep," she said, "You must go now."

Nat gently yet quickly scooped him into her arms. Clint tried not to feel disappointed as his hand slipped from his fur. He reminded himself that this was for the best.

"If we can't find the owner," said Nick, "we'll get him to a shelter."

Clint shot to his feet faster than he would care to admit. "Or you could... you know... bring him back here." At the silence and everyone's stares, he continued, "Just a thought."

Nat nodded, failing to hide her smirk, before exiting the cabin with Nick. Clint sighed in relief before going to the table. As much as he wanted Lucky to get back to his rightful owner, he really wanted to see him again.

* * *

Natasha and Fury entered the veterinary clinic. The smell of numerous cleaning supplies mixed with the odors of numerous pets assaulted them as soon as they entered. They could also hear dogs barking a few rooms away.

Natasha, holding Lucky, was the first to make it to the front desk. "We're George and Evelyn Peterson. We need a vet, stat."

The receptionist, an older gentlemen with glasses and a name tag reading 'Stan,' began typing away on his computer. "Can do. Just have a seat and I'll let her know that this fella needs emergency care."

They thanked him before taking a seat in the empty waiting room. To their surprise, Lucky hadn't yet stirred from his slumber. Natasha actually found herself hoping that Wanda's powers hadn't worked too well. She had no idea if he would need to be awake for any portion of the checkup.

She whispered to Nick, "How many days would it take for him to get from the nearest civilization to the lake?"

"In his condition?" he responded, "I'd say about a week. I'm no vet, but I can tell you that these wounds were not received all at once. Some of his scratches are scabbed over while others are really fresh. And given the amount of blood he got on you on the way here, I'd say some of these wounds have been opening back up for a while now."

She looked down at herself to see that there was indeed blood on her arms and lap. Not enough to cause grave concern, but enough to demonstrate how many wounds weren't healing. "Poor little guy. At least he doesn't seem to be suffering from internal bleeding."

"I bet it's a miracle he's still alive. He's one tough dog. Made an impression on Agent Barton too."

Natasha smiled. "Clint's always had a soft spot for animals. I think a dog would be perfect for him and his family, actually. It's no wonder Clint wants him back. We'll have to make another shopping trip before we return to the safe house. I'm sure he'll still be fed pizza, but he's going to need some actual dog food."

"Unless he already has an owner."

"Call it a hunch, but I have a feeling he's Clint's dog now."

A young woman wearing a long, white coat and stethoscope came into the waiting room. Her name tag revealed that she was a vet tech. Her eyes widened when she saw Lucky. "Oh my God."

Without a word, she picked up Lucky and rushed him to the back.

* * *

It was hours before Nick and Nat were summoned. Lucky, now awake, was laying on a metal table. He was wrapped in several bandages, but seemed to be in less pain. The vet, a middle-aged woman with her dark hair up in a bun, explained how they gave him several shots, over a dozen stitches, and how he would need a cone on his head once he was healthy enough to mess with his injuries.

"How long has it been since he's done his business?" asked the vet.

Nick answered, "Not since we found him almost a day ago. We weren't able to get him help until recently."

The vet nodded. "I asked because as soon as he woke up he went ahead and emptied his bladder and bowels, but immediately tried to get as far away as he could from us. It was as if he was expecting a punishment."

"So he's house trained?" Natasha asked, "Does he have an owner."

"He does," said the vet, "but not one that he should be returned to."

Natasha and Nick stayed silent, waiting for her to continue.

"We took a closer look at the scratches to try and identify the source. We can confirm that they're from other dogs, different breeds. We also found several bruises under his fur that appear to be caused by human hands. I have no doubt that this dog escaped a dog-fighting ring."

This wasn't the answer Natasha was expecting. Dogs trained to fight were usually aggressive and distrusting. While Lucky did appear to be uneasy around people he didn't know, he's shown that his trust can be gained. And while Nat was sure he would resist being carried away, he didn't show any signs of aggression outside of self defense. No dog should be forced to fight, especially not a sweet dog like Lucky.

Thankfully, his new owners, especially Clint, will love him to pieces.

"We know someone who can take care of him," said Natasha, "We just need you to give us instructions for him."

* * *

 **I hope I made the Stan Lee cameo obvious enough!**

 **I recently published an Iron Dad and Spider Son story called Milk and Nachos. If you think you might be interested, feel free to read it and let me know what you think!**

 **And of course, please let me know what you thought of this chapter! I know it was short, but the next one is going to be much longer!**


	7. The Return

**Sorry that this is out so late! Unexpected things in life got in the way.** **I wanted to make sure this chapter was sufficient enough in length and quality to post even if it takes more time than any of us would like.**

 **Please read the note at the end of the chapter for an announcement!**

* * *

The couch cushions had been replaced and the sheets were put in the washing machine since Lucky left the cabin. Clint had fallen into a much more comfortable sleep. When he had awoken, his friends were all downstairs playing a board game at the table. There was no sign that Nat and Fury had returned with or without Lucky.

He hoped Pizza Dog was fine and that the vet wouldn't find any internal damage. Even so, he had confidence that Lucky was fixable.

Sam noticed that Clint was awake. "Evening, Sleeping Beauty."

Clint sat up. "I slept that long?" The darkness beyond the window answered his question.

Steve moved a game piece before asking, "Are you feeling better?"

"The pain in my back and neck is almost gone. Key word being almost. They aren't back yet?"

"It shouldn't be long now," said Steve, "If they haven't found an owner, they're probably getting supplies for him so that he can stay here."

Clint agreed. Hopefully one of the supplies they get is a dog bed. He still wanted to sleep in the same room as Lucky, and he didn't think Lucky was going to be healthy enough to go upstairs to share Clint's bed. While Clint didn't regret putting all of the cushions and pillows on the floor, it would be nice to have them in the future.

Steve had been right, Nat, Nick, and Lucky entered the cabin just a few minutes later. Pizza Dog was limp in Nat's arms while Nick had a plastic bag hanging off his left forearm and was clutching onto a doggy bed and a large bag of dog food.

Clint didn't waste time saying hello as he indicated to the spot Lucky had occupied earlier. "Go ahead and set the bed here."

Fury raised an eyebrow at being given orders, but obliged anyway. Clint took the time to observe the bed to see if it was good enough for his new dog. It was certainly large enough, and the green material looked soft. The only concern he had was that it wouldn't be supportive enough. Just to be sure, he bent over and attempted to fluff the bed as Natasha gently set Lucky on it.

Despite all of his bandages, Clint thought Lucky looked much better. He showed no sign that he was hurting and was the most relaxed he had ever seen him. The veterinarian must have given him a strong medication.

"Hey, Boy," he said as he scratched him behind the ear, "You're looking a lot better. And more comfortable."

As Fury got to work unloading the bags on the counter, he said, "He's going to be fine. He needs to rest, take some meds every few hours, and have his bandages changed."

Clint volunteered, "I can handle that."

Steve added, "I used to change bandages all the time. Perhaps it'd be better if I did that."

Scott stood up from the table and ventured his way to Lucky. "Having a dog around should make things a lot more fun. Sure it's not as good as an army of ants, or even a giant one, but he should be cool to have around."

Fury pointed out, "After he rests."

"Right."

Steve asked, "So does he not have an owner?"

To most people, Nat would have sounded emotionless and matter-of-fact, but Clint knew her well enough to hear the anger. "If a person in charge of dogfights counts as an owner."

It suddenly became very uncomfortable in the room. Clint had frozen while petting Lucky's head. Of all of the scenarios that crossed his mind as to how Lucky was injured, dogfighting was not one of them. He couldn't understand how someone could find two animals being forced to fight entertaining. He thought of Lucky stuck in an enclosure with a snarling dog while people stood on the outside egging them on. He nearly shuddered.

Sam asked, "Are you sure?"

She answered, "A lot of the injuries were caused by several different dogs, and the vet found bruises left by human fingers."

Clint thought out loud, "That explains why most of the scratches are on the front. He would have been facing his opponents as they fought."

"Poor thing," Wanda whispered.

Steve stood and began filling a dog bowl Fury had just taken out with water. "Well, he's safe now. We won't let anyone or anything harm him."

"Damn right," agreed Clint.

"We need to show him as much love as possible," said Wanda, "Just because he's escaped, doesn't mean he isn't affected."

Clint noted, "He seems to trust us, but I agree that he's probably still suffering both physically and mentally."

Scott asked, "So we agree that we're going to support him as he gets better. That's a good start. What about after he heals and when we get to go home?"

Lucky lifted his head to enough to nuzzle Clint's hand. He even managed to sluggishly wag his tail before plopping his head back down. He sighed, the simple movement being too much for his drugged body.

Nat responded, "I think Lucky's already chosen who he's going home with."

Clint knew everybody was watching him, but all he could focus on was Pizza Dog lying by him. Against his better judgement, he undoubtedly grew attached. In all honesty, Clint couldn't remember trying not to bond with him. This dog needed him, and from the moment he saw him, he was ready to take him in and nurse him back to health. The scenarios of Lucky playing with his children that Clint had highlighted the night before were very easy to see. Clint wouldn't know the full extent of Lucky's personality until he was healed, but so far, he seemed like he would fit right in with the Barton household.

He knew what he wanted, but it wasn't just his decision. "I'll have to talk to the lady of the house."

* * *

Laura was in the family computer room with two of her children, one sleeping in the other room. She sat at the computer while Cooper and Lila were on either side of her. They both seemed anxious for their father to appear on the screen. However, Cooper's anxiety seemed more negative.

She had been pleasantly surprised when Fury arrived at the house saying that Clint wanted to Skype again. He had assured her that everything was fine, but that he had something urgent to ask. He refused to give her any details. Apparently, Clint wanted it to be a surprise.

When Clint called, Laura hit the accept button faster than last time. His face appeared on the screen. He looked thrilled to see them, but she saw a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Hi, Dad!" exclaimed Lila.

"Hello, Sweetheart! Hey, Buddy!"

Cooper smiled and gave a shy wave, a nearly polar opposite of Lila. Although it still concerned her, Laura was used to it by now.

Clint smirked. "You might be wondering why I've gathered you all here today."

"Because you miss us?" Laura offered.

"Always, Honey. But this time, it's because there's someone I want you to meet."

That was surprising. Laura had never been on the run in her life, but she figured it wouldn't allow ample time for meeting new people. The only Avengers they haven't met yet were Ant-Man, Sam Wilson visiting them before.

Clint shifted the laptop around to reveal that lounging by his feet on a dog bed was a sleeping labrador retriever wrapped in bandages.

"A dog!" Lila exclaimed happily as she leaned in closer to the monitor. Even Cooper's jaw dropped as he scrambled to get closer.

"This is Lucky," introduced Clint, "I found him a bit scratched up a couple of days ago, but as you can see we got him some help. He's going to be just fine."

Cooper asked, "Can we keep him?!"

"Pretty please?!" added Lila.

Clint laughed off camera. "I figured you would all want to meet him before we officially adopted him." Laura knew he had already adopted him in his mind. "I don't mean to put you on the spot Laura, but you know the situation at home better than I do. Can he stay with us?"

Her children's pleading eyes were suddenly on her. If Lucky had his own bed as was evident in the video feed, then he probably already had his necessities. Whatever money that still needed to be spent on him would be covered by Clint's time as an Avenger. She also knew that her husband wouldn't offer to keep the dog that was a danger to the kids.

Cooper began bargaining when she didn't answer. "I'll feed him and take him for walks everyday. I'll even pick up after him!"

Clint said, "There's no need for that. He refuses to go anywhere but outside."

"Even better! How about that, Mom?!"

Laura asked, "Has he had all of his shots?"

"They were taken care of a few days ago."

"Then I have no objection."

Lila cheered as Cooper whooped in excitement. They both hugged her as best they could with her sitting in a chair.

As Cooper thanked her over and over again, Lila turned her attention back to the screen. "Is he going to be an Avenger?"

Clint chuckled and then turned the camera back on himself. "No, I think he would prefer to be a normal dog. Maybe when we come home, he'll be Kate Bishop's sidekick."

"Kate Bishop and her trusty sidekick, Arrow. I like it, Dad!"

Cooper asked, "When will you be home?"

Laura watched in dismay as her husband's face fell. "I don't know, Buddy. I really wish I could tell you."

* * *

 **As always, I really hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, but now it's time for an announcement! (Spoilers for Infinity War!)**

 **When I posted this story, I had the idea to write a sequel to it. It was going to be a crossover with Deadpool and would have featured Professor X and Magneto. However, Hawkeye: Caught in the Crossfire already doesn't comply with Infinity War and my next story wasn't going to be compliant with Deadpool 2. Heck, there was even going to be a part in the sequel where Lucky grabbed Mjolnir and ran off with it, so it doesn't even work with Ragnarok!**

 **But I'm happy to say that after seeing Infinity War, I came up with an idea for a fic. To put it simply, everyone left is struggling to either adjust to the new world or-as in the case of the Avengers-working to set things right. Meanwhile, Gamora and everyone who turned to dust is trapped in the soul stone and need to make sure they survive long enough for the Avengers to get them out.**

 **To avoid my mistake with my last idea, I'm going to write that story at the same time as this one and the Sherlock fic, but I need to know something before I begin. If you believe you might be interested, keep an eye out for it!**


	8. Going for a Jog

**Sorry that this took so long! Something in my life came up that caused me to stop writing for all of these months! I'm fairly confident it won't happen again in the near future!**

* * *

Clint awoke to something wet and slimy being quickly and repeatedly dragged across his face. The first time this had happened he had jumped up and nearly woke up the entire safe house screaming, but now it brought a smile to his face.

He sat up in his bed so Lucky would stop licking his face. "Okay, I'm up, I'm up!"

Lucky barked happily before jumping off the bed, showing no sign that he was ever injured. His wagging tail picked up speed as Clint stood to get dressed. Unlike when he woke up many weeks ago, the sun wasn't shining in his window. In fact, it hadn't even cleared the trees. Lucky didn't care, of course. He wanted to go jogging with Sam and Steve, and he would take Clint with them whether Clint liked it or not.

Clint himself would prefer to sleep in, but he knew it was futile. If he stayed behind, so would Lucky, but he would be in a rotten mood all day.

"At least I'm getting my exercise," he said.

Once he was done getting dressed, the two headed downstairs and out the door. As always, Lucky would have to do his business before they went to the lake. "Make sure to do it where people don't walk. We don't want Fury to step in it again."

He didn't expect Lucky to listen. As obedient as he was, he went wherever smelt like the right spot. Thank God he was house-trained and that that "right spot" was never indoors.

As Lucky sniffed around, the door to the safe house opened and Sam stepped out. "Ready to go?"

"Once Lucky's done."

Steve shut the door behind him. "He's doing better and better each day. Even if we feed him more of our food than his own."

Clint smiled. Everyone in that cabin was guilty of feeding him portions of their own meals. Even when they tried not to, Pizza Dog was a master manipulator. He'll look at them with the saddest eyes as he lays his head on their laps and whimpers. It was impossible to resist, and Clint had been trained to resist torture. Nat and Fury had yet to be begged at since they never ate with them. He had a feeling it was so they could avoid giving in to Lucky's puppy dog eyes.

The dog in question ran to the trail leading to the lake, his signal that he was ready to jog. He looked back at the men and barked twice as if to say, "Let's go!" The three of them followed.

* * *

Sam's time as a soldier and Clint's time as an agent had given them roughly the same amount of physical training. It allowed them to jog at the same speed and make conversation. It was something Sam had voiced his love for, but it was only his second favorite thing about Clint and Lucky joining their jogs.

Steve can run faster than 60 mph and can keep that speed up for a long time. Steve constantly leaving Sam in the dust ticked him off. However, Lucky can run roughly 45 mph, and while he loved to stick by Clint's side, he preferred to be by Steve when jogging. On the first day Lucky ran around the lake, he had tried with all of his might to match Steve's pace. It ended with Steve, Sam, and Clint huddled around a wheezing dog as he tried to catch his breath.

That's why, as they ran now, Steve was going at what to him was a light jog, Lucky keeping him company. Clint knew Sam considered it an improvement to Steve's speed before. Seeing that Lucky was having the time of his life up ahead was just the cherry on top.

Clint asked Sam, "So are you still suspicious?"

"About what?"

"Remember when you commented about the lack of bad guys running around the place? I forgot to ask yesterday if you felt any better now that we found some."

The first thing Nat and Fury talked about when they visited the day before was how a new villain had made an appearance in New York. Apparently he had been selling weapons built from Chitauri technology.

Sam responded, "Oh yeah! I'm not relieved per say, but I feel less paranoid. You know what? I can't believe that Spider-Man of all people took him down."

"Why? He kicked your ass at the airport."

Sam met Clint's smirk with a scowl. "First of all _I_ won that fight."

"That's debatable."

"And second, Barnes and I weren't trying to kill him like that Vulture thing was. Spider-Man's head wasn't even in the game when I fought him, so how he was able to stay focused enough to take down another dude with wings is beyond me."

"That just makes your defeat even more embarrassing!"

"Redwing threw him out a window!" Sam exclaimed.

"After he kicked your ass!" Clint yelled as he sprinted ahead.

* * *

Laura knocked on Cooper's bedroom door. "Are you working on homework?"

"...Yeah," came his hesitant reply. She heard movement from behind the door. If she had to guess, it sounded like a large book was slammed shut before a notebook was flipped open.

She opened the door to see Cooper sitting on his bed. He was scribbling in his notebook until he realized Laura had entered. Right behind him was a thick photo album.

Laura sat next to him as she picked up the album. "I haven't seen this thing in ages!"

He shrugged. "I found it in the attic. I thought it'd be nice to look back at the good old days."

Against Laura's hopes, Cooper hadn't gotten much more cheerful. Both kids expressed excitement and happiness about Lucky, but other than that, Cooper was still distant and even bitter. She couldn't tell if his interest in the photos was a good sign or not.

She opened to the first page. "The good old days. This book starts with one of the best days of my life."

Cooper stared at the photos of the much younger family. Laura was in a bed, a hospital gown visible by the parts of her not covered in a white blanket. Clint stood next to her, holding a tiny, pink baby. He had a genuine smile on his face while Laura's betrayed her long ordeal from before.

"You look too tired for this to be one of the best days of your life."

"Trust me. I was overjoyed. You certainly can't deny that your father was having the time of his life!"

Cooper tilted his head as he seemed to scrutinize one of the photos. "He does look really happy. How long until he went back to work?"

Well she didn't expect that question. "I don't remember for sure. He couldn't be away from work for too long. He and Fury had to be sure that we stayed secret. Why do you ask?"

For a moment he appeared to be frustrated, but quickly changed back to impassive. Whether she imagined the anger or not, he didn't answer her question. He had been distant for long enough. Laura had to get to the bottom of what was causing his sour mood and fix it.

"Tell me, what's going on in that head of yours? How have you really been since your dad had to leave?"

" _Had_ to leave?" he asked with a hint of anger in his voice.

She was a bit taken aback. "It may not have been as urgent as when aliens and robots were about to destroy the world, but it was important. But back to my question. How have you been feeling?"

"I don't want to talk about it, Mom."

Laura was hesitant to push him for information. Doing so risked him becoming even more distant, and that was the exact opposite of what she wanted to happen. If she was going to get Cooper to talk, she needed a plan. Maybe having both Clint and herself talk to him would help. After all, she was certain that Clint had something to do with Cooper's mood.

"Okay," she said, "I'll leave it alone for now, but I want to talk about it eventually." She got up and stood in the doorway. "Make sure to get your homework done."

Cooper nodded, not bothering to say anything. Meanwhile, Laura had to call Fury to schedule another Skype meeting.

* * *

 **So how do you think this Skype meeting is going to go?**


End file.
